TLC: Helping You Develop Phobias One Show at a Time

Normally, I love The Learning Channel (TLC). What Not to Wear? Heck yes, I’ll watch you throw away those ugly Crocs. Jon and Kate Plus Eight? Don’t mind if I do.

But lately, TLC has been changing their evening programming, showing horrific things like Mystery Diagnosis, and the worst yet: My Shocking Story.

Last night, the latter caused a problem at the gym.

See, I got there later than normal and the place was packed. As I climbed onto the only open elliptical, I noticed the girl next to me was watching my idea of Hell: A man plagued with skin growths and such incredible arm and leg fungus that his limbs actually looked like long, thick tree branches. (Don’t worry; that link is just the episode synopsis.)

I felt like throwing up in my towel and then strangling myself with it. But this was the only open machine and it was getting late. I was going to have to somehow power through.

Except that I couldn’t. I should see the sh!t on the periphery, and just knowing it was there was making me sick.

I was going to have to tell a perfect stranger that her choice of gym television channel was unacceptable to me.

It wasn’t hard. When I looked over at her, the camera cut to a full frontal of the tree man and a look of horror apparently spread across my face. The girl looked at me with puzzled eyes and I croaked:

“Could you turn that off?”

She nodded, turned the channel and I swore off TLC viewings after 7PM. A short time later she got off the machine, went home and presumably told her boyfriend or roommate that she had exercised next to a complete lunatic.

Except I don’t think I’m alone in thinking such a show is A.) gross, and B.) an unwise choice for watching TV in public. Like the guy last week who opted to watch a show about breast implants. HAVE YOU PEOPLE NO DISCRETION? NO SENSE OF DECENCY?

But really. I shouldn’t be blaming my fellow gym members. I should be blaming TLC. Bastards.

They’re Coming…

The cicadas. Back to DC. In 13 years. Let me explain. No; there is too little. Let me sum up:

In the eastern half of the United States, periodical cicadas come up out of the ground every 17 years. They were here in the Washington, DC area in May of 2004 and will not be visiting us again for quite a while. They are large insects, about an inch and a half long, with black bodies, red eyes and delicate wings. There are far too many to count. You see them everywhere–on the sidewalk, on the trees, on the porch, on the street. Source

THEY COME UP OUT OF THE GROUND?! Talk about a nightmare come true for me. And have you seen them? THEY HAVE RED EYES. Cripes, they look like they were spawned from Satan himself.

The Washington Post even has a whole page dedicated to cicada season, or Brood X. They were last here in May 2004. One story I read followed a girl through desensitization therapy. Of course, there are also people like this who excitedly await the return of the cicadas. Yeah, that photo of the kid with the cicada on his MOUTH put me over the edge too. (Parents? Anywhere? Hello?)

According to D (who has lived in DC off and on for the last few years), the bugs are huge and form black clouds in the sky. My co-worker confirms the size factor, noting that the sound of the cicadas is deafening, and that each brood appears in prime numbers. He says it’s “fascinating,” and “kind of fun” to see them flying into windows and being spit out by dogs.

F that. Consider my bags packed. There’s no way I could deal with a Biblical-like proportions of Brood X.

I’m so itchy.

Programming Note

[Update 2]: Another rough day; more water and at least four dead at a boy scout camp in Little Sioux, IA.

[Update]: Still clear for now, per this CNN video and phone interview. I watched to see if I could find my dad and brother among the sandbaggers, but nothing yet. And have you seen these homes that have fallen into the river in Wisconsin? Frightening.

I started getting a trickle of emails and text messages starting this morning in regard to the flooding in my hometown; it was quite a surprise to turn on the Today Show and see them reporting live from Cedar Falls, Iowa.

So far both of our families’ (D’s and mine) homes are dry, though my dad’s photography store has gotten some water. All of downtown CF (and nearby Waterloo) has been evacuated, with other parts of the state following suit.

Anyway, everyone’s fine for the time being. And thanks for all your well wishes. Hopefully I won’t be spending my summer vacation helping my parents clean out our flood-ravaged basement. Been there. Done that.

On the lighter side, D found a photo of two high school classmates, bowfishing on their flooded property. Now that’s funny. I don’t care who you are.

[Jam of the Day]: Supertramp, It’s Raining Again (aptly)

I’m Moving Out.

During my first week in my apartment, Ella drug out a mouse and politely deposited it in the kitchen. I dealt with it.

During my second week in my apartment, a woman committed suicide by jumping off her 10th story balcony into our front walk. Eventually, I got over that.

Yesterday as I was filling up Ella’s water dish, I saw a roach scurry across my counter. I tried smashing it with a liquid soap dispenser, and when that didn’t work, I picked up my cookbook and finally smashed it to smithereens. Then I gagged for about thirty seconds. And then again when I had to pull out two of the roach’s legs from the pages of my cookbook. Can I Lysol paper?

To say the roach is the straw that broke the camel’s back isn’t quite accurate, because I would have gagged and cried over a roach in my apartment had I seen one on the first day. They’re the epitome of filth and all I can think about is that where there’s one, there’s hordes more. Plus there’s that whole thing about them crawling back behind your eardrum. It’s been a fear of mine since I was a kid, and I might literally go mad if that fear were to be realized.

“Roaches are disgusting,” D agreed, “But they’re part of apartment living.”
“Uh, I’ve never had a roach in my apartment. Not ever. Not once.”
“Really? We had them in our apartment all the time in Korea. Costa Rica, too. They were huge.”

June 15 can’t come soon enough.

Things That Suck

In case you didn’t catch this month’s Wired article, 33 Things That Make Us Go Crazy, it’s worth checking out.

Out of the 33 things on their list, I most concur with:

Air travel (though I’ve really lucked out this year)
Evite (Evite is devil-f!cking-spawn and I can’t stand it)
Tomatoes (dudes, they are getting mealy and gross)
Plastic packaging (it’s a problem with someone had to create scissors to open new gadgets and toys)
Traffic (’nuff said)

Luckily for all those sucky things, there are a bunch of things that rule the school. Vote for your non-sucky items over at Wired, or give your suck/non-suck two cents via comments. I’ll start!

[Jam of the Day]: Taken by Trees, Lost and Found

Vote for Huckabee. Or Face Death.

In case you live in a cave, the Iowa caucuses are being held next week, and being that I’ve been in Iowa for a week, I’ve once again been subjected to all the campaign ads and phone calls from the candidates. Boy, oh, boy I don’t miss living in Iowa in election years.

Earlier this week, D and I were driving around town, noting people’s yard signs. There are a surprising amount of idiots who publicly proclaiming love via real estate for Mike Huckabee, which led me to finally confess to D my fantasy about Huckabee supporters:

I want to knock on the doors of all these houses. When the unsuspecting homeowner opens the door, I will punch them in the face and walk away. I imagine they’ll be shocked and confused and call out to me with a, ‘What the hell, lady?’ as I walk through their yard and back to my car, at which point I will kick down or perhaps light their Huckabee yard sign on fire. Then they’ll understand it [the face punching].

That might seem a little extreme, especially for someone who doesn’t even like watching someone get fictionally punched in movies. But I figure a little punch to the face is nothing for Huckabee and his supporters. Not compared to what he’ll do if you don’t vote for him. What an idiot.

Thanks to Freakgirl for the link.

Well, that’s one way to do it.

From Reuters: “Hide your old pills in poop, U.S. government says”

Best headline of the morning if you ask me. Here’s a fun excerpt:

“The U.S. government declares ferret poop to be an effective weapon against drug abuse.”

Oh, so many questions.

1. Why would you get rid of extra pain pills? I keep mine in a safe place for recreational future use.
2. Why would shoving old pills in poop be your first course of action? Why not flush them?
3. Why is ferret poop the mother of all drug combatants?
4. Why would you get rid of extra pain pills?

Also, all the talk of “disguising” pills is making me laugh. For some reason I keep thinking of wigs and fake mustaches. Awesome.

Yes, I’d like a FatAss for delivery, please.

No wonder Japan is getting fat.

I Still Hate Elisabeth Hasselbeck

Which is why I enjoyed watching Alicia Silverstone straight up snub her when she visited The View. And why I snickered listening to Elisabeth follow it up with lots o’ ass kissing.

I’m evil.

[Related in an evil way]: A Fool In The Forest

I Still Hate Elisabeth Hasselbeck

Which is why I enjoyed watching Alicia Silverstone straight up snub her when she visited The View. And why I snickered listening to Elisabeth follow it up with lots o’ ass kissing.

I’m evil.

[Related in an evil way]: A Fool In The Forest